


I'm Begging You To Keep On

by antisocialhood



Series: Misadventures [3]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-14
Updated: 2015-10-14
Packaged: 2018-04-26 10:22:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5001079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antisocialhood/pseuds/antisocialhood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael likes to keep his promises, and Luke's on his knees.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Begging You To Keep On

**Author's Note:**

> It's been over a month since I posted anything, and I'm really sorry. I just haven't had any motivation to write whatsoever, whatever though. I'm kinda back, kinda not lol. i'm so sorry it's taken so long tho.
> 
> This took literally like a week + oops, but I had wonderful conversations with people as I struggled to figure out what I was doing.
> 
> I hope everyone enjoys.
> 
> @shutupluke (aka the most beautiful and wonderful person in the whole world) beta'd this (pretty much made it as good as it is, lets be real) so huge shoutout to her. thank you SOOOOOOOOO much, i love you to pieces like honestly you cleaned this up so nicely, bless ur heart & soul.

It feels like being back in school. Calum paces back and forth in front of Luke, listing off the tiny quirks he'd picked up on after six years of friendship.    
  
"He loves a good chase," Calum hums. He's on finger number seven and Luke can almost see the steam coming out of his ears. "Literally loves holding whoever he's fucking, down. Michael's weird like that, he likes the control."   
  
As if Luke doesn't already know; wasn't sucking Ashton's dick in the middle of the night thinking about how hard Michael was going to fuck him. Thinking about how many marks would litter his skin, and how demeaning Michael would be when he finally got his hands on Luke. He's jerked himself off half a dozen times at least just thinking about how rough Michael had been with Ashton, how forceful and sharp his tongue and hips were.

  
"... and he'll probably choke you." Calum shrugs at Luke's wide eyed, helpless gaze. "You walked yourself into this one, Hemmings. He's not going to play nice because you weren't filtering your thoughts."   
  
"I didn't know he was nuts!" Luke whines.  "Cal, can't you talk to him or something?"    
  
"You sound like you're being sold into a sex slave business, Luke, chill. It's Michael, and you know he wouldn't force you into anything you didn't consent to." Ashton interjects, and places the book he was reading on his lap. He lowers his glasses to peek over the top and shoots Calum a look Luke isn't quite sure how to decipher.    
  
Calum sighs, flopping down on the rug. He rubs at his eyes with balled up fists. "Listen, just play with him. He's not going to hurt you, just kinda wants to teach you a lesson." Another shrug and he's turning to look at Ashton. "How good's he look getting fucked?"   
  
Ashton grins. "Real good."    
  
"I'll have to ask Michael to video then." Calum pats Luke's knee and stands up. "You'll be fine, plus you can always go sit on Ashton's dick when you're done if Michael's not good enough for you."   
  
Luke sees Ashton stiffen out of the corner of his eye and chews the inside of his lip, nodding sharply. Ashton hasn't yet fully forgiven Luke for his smart remark a few weeks ago, and Calum's careless words seem to remind Ashton of this. He's picked his book back up and is pretending to be engulfed in the story, though he damn well knows Luke has seen his pink cheeks. 

  
"Luke never does seem to be pleased." Ashton snaps, flipping the page. He looks pissed, in a soft, delicate passive-aggressive way that has Luke feeling even guiltier- as if it hasn't been eating away at him all week.    
  
Luke sighs and looks to Calum with pleading eyes.    
  
"Do you- Should I-" Calum trails off, gesturing towards the door. He looks between Ashton and Luke. "Are you gonna fuck?"   
  
"I'd hope not," comes Michael's voice. Luke turns with wide eyes to the entrance of the living room. Michael stands there, grinning widely. He's got Luke's Weezer shirt on and a pair of jeans, probably Ashton's- they're worn around the knees and loose at the ankle. "Wanna feel how tight he is. Can't properly tell if he's already been fucked." And it makes sense, which makes it worse. 

  
Luke swallows, turning back around. His gaze flits to Ashton, fingers fumbling in his lap as his twists his hands together. Ashton's no better, his knuckles have gone white gripping the book and his jaw is clenched tightly.   
  
"Shit, the sexual tension is literally insane. I think I just popped a boner." Calum tries, weak smile on his face. Trust Calum to try humor at a time like this. When no one answers he coughs softly, pinches Luke's knee through the rip in his jeans.    
  
Luke smacks his hand, looks to Ashton. The oldest boy is staring at him, has fire in his eyes and Luke nearly swears. There's a war going on inside Ashton. It might be silent and calm in the room but Luke's screaming in his head. He's waiting, heart in his throat, for someone to pounce, already silently placing his bets on Michael making the first move.    
  
Calum seems to be the only one with enough balls to speak, to cut through the thick tension. "I'm just gonna-" he gestures with his thumbs to the kitchen. "Give you guys some space."   
  
"No," Ashton says. He narrows his eyes, swallowing. "They can go somewhere else." He picks up his book, shooting Luke one last look, this one much softer, before turning his words to Michael. "I expect him back in one piece." Almost like it's an afterthought, he adds "Preferably unable to walk and completely out of it."   
  
Michael grins, feline and harsh. He sends a silent promise to Ashton that has Luke chewing harder at his lip- he's sure it'll bleed before the day is out, at this rate at least. 

"Take off your shoes." Luke kicks his sneakers off, lets them drop to the floor with a thunk. It's an obvious power exchange, and Luke's desperate to start off well, so he just  submits . Michael stares silently, and so do Calum and Ashton, all carefully observing.  

Michael waits a moment before speaking. "You have eleven seconds to run, when I catch you, I fuck you where we are. Understood?"   
  
"Mike-" Calum starts only to be cut off with a hiss from the older boy.   
  
"Shut up, Calum." Michael's eyes are locked on Luke's, predatory and scrutinizing. "You're already on three seconds, Luke, better get going." Luke blinks nervously, scrambling to his feet. Michael steps back from the doorway, mouthing the numbers, he smacks Luke's ass as he scurries by. "Seven."   
  
The house isn't that big, but shit, it feels like it's suddenly huge. Luke barely makes it into the main hallway before he's being tackled to the floor. His feet slide on the rug beneath his feet and he almost pulls the plant under the staircase down. He hits the hardwood floor with a loud  'unf' and barely has time to catch his breath before his hips are being pulled up and his jeans down, scraping harshly against his hip bones and pelvis. He wriggles around, squeaks when Michaels tongue moves along the outer shell of his ear.   
  
"Eleven."   
  
Michael doesn't waste time tugging the garments off of Luke, instead leaving them around his thighs, effectively rendering him unable to do much more than squirm around helplessly. His boxers are down next, Michael let's the elastic snap back against his ass and growls at the moan that Luke emits. Michael's quick with his movements, practiced and controlled. He kisses Luke's temple and slaps him across the face.    
  
Luke drops his head, choking on air. His face stings, he'll probably have a nasty red mark there all night and tomorrow morning. Ash and Cal will probably see it, know he got slapped around.  Punished . Tears prick in Luke's eyes and trickle down his cheeks unsteadily.    
  
"You know what that's for?" Michael sneers. The angle's all wrong, Luke thinks as Michael's palm caresses his heated skin, soothing where he'd just slapped . He wants to turn around, face Michael and look him in the eye. He shakes his head no though, knows not to look directly at Michael. He sniffles softly. 

"I think you do." Michael's voice is quiet, but definitely sinister.

  
"I don't." Luke's voice is deep and croaky, makes him sound weak and broken. Despite what he said, he knows, of course he does, why he was slapped. His attitude, the snarky responses he gave, the insolence, the lack of respect.    
  
"Don't lie to me," Michael's hand strikes his cheek again, this time harder. He tugs Luke's hair, grips it tightly between his fingers and yanks his head back. Luke whimpers, a tiny sound from the back of his throat that seems to spur Michael on. He presses his mouth to the back of Luke's throat, nips at the skin with the intent of drawing blood.    
  
Broken gasps fall from Luke's lips and he lets his eyes fall shut, the feeling of Michael's teeth against his skin overwhelming him. It's only when Michael rears up, pressing his hips flush to Luke's ass that Luke groans and starts to fall forward, only stopping because of the tight grip in his hair. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Luke cries.

  
"Yeah?" Michael chuckles humorlessly. He releases Luke's hair and he crumples face first onto the ground with a soft yelp. 

Michael's hands move to Luke's ass, squeezing the supple flesh before landing a hit on his right asscheek. Luke groans, squirms around until he's got his face buried in the crook of his arm and he's panting heavily on the hardwood floor. Michael's hand continues to land hits on Luke's ass, sharing the wealth of each hard slap until his cheeks are bright red and Luke is sobbing out, pleading breathlessly. "You like that?"   
  
"I lo-love it," Luke chokes out, stuttering over the words. His face is hot, cooled down only when a fresh set of tears out of his eyes. He's never been hit this much before, probably because Ashton is only interested in getting himself inside of Luke and fucking him into oblivion. Luke's sure though, absolutely positive, that he could get off with a couple tugs of his hair and his ass being spanked raw. He chokes on a sob as Michael's hand connects with his already stinging skin.    
  
Michael hums, deep and throaty, rubs his hands over Luke's now-tender ass and grips both cheeks tightly in his hands, squeezes until Luke's mewling under him.    
  
There's a soft chuckle, the kind Michael uses when he doesn't really think something is funny but is trying to appease someone. Luke blinks repeatedly, tries to catch the tears that haven't yet fallen before they do make a break for it and slip down his cheeks. His body is hot, every nerve tuned in to Michael, to the soft caresses and harsh hits, the sudden movements and the repetitive hits. Michael presses his lips to Luke's lower back and moves his hands from the boy's ass. He pushes Luke's shirt up his body, leaves it around his shoulders and back. "You're so worked up, babe, I love it."    
  
Michael's hands roam over Luke's back, explore the broad shoulders and back spread out before him, how his skin stretches taut over the swell of his muscles and bones. Admires how Luke can't help but arch his back every few seconds, the small twitch almost unnoticeable.   
  
Luke's quiet, can't really figure out how to put his thoughts into a sentence without the words  'please' and  'more' slipping in there somewhere. He does what he knows best, what he does best, and grinds back. His ass is up in the air and he has no qualms, absolutely none. Michaels jeans are still on and Luke wants so badly to turn around and unbutton them, slide his hand into the tight waistband and down into Michael's boxers and wrap his hand around his cock, to just fucking touch him. He can't though, the mere thought of sitting up leaves stars dancing around his vision and his arms trembling.    
  
Another slap on his ass and Luke's panting again. He's chubbed up quickly, and is ridiculously grateful to Michael for having taken his pants off, having ripped them off of him, quite frankly. He leans forwards more, adjusts his head to look under himself. His cock hangs heavy, swollen and with an angry red head, it leaves Luke lightheaded. He can see Michael's legs bracketed behind his almost perfectly, zipper pulled down and button undone. It honestly makes Luke wonder how talented Michael is if he'd managed to get that out of the way while holding Luke down and touching him.    
  
"Your ass is so red, peach. You like that?" Michaels tone is greedy, searching and hungry, and Luke wants to listen to it for the rest of his life.    
  
"Yeah, yeah I-I love it, Mikey." Luke says weakly. He opens his mouth to plead for more when suddenly Michaels fingers are between his cheeks, stroking over his hole and sending tremors through his body.    
  
Michael's gentle, running the pad of his pointer finger over the puckered skin repeatedly, not bothering to delve inside the thick heat. He hums deep in his throat, the sound echoing through Luke's mind and ringing in his ears, and slaps his other hand down hard on Luke's left asscheek, groping it a moment after. The gentleness Michael had shown minutes prior has slowly dissipated, leaving only the violence from Michael's hands and the pressure from his fingers.    
  
There's a soft mewling sound, something similar to an animal crying out for attention. It takes a few moments for Luke to realize it's him making the little noises, and they're muffled only by his arms and closed lips. He sucks a strangled breath in through his nose, breathes out through his mouth. 

"Please, please, please." He stutters out the words, chokes on them when Michael grunts and suddenly is pushing a finger into Luke's body, wet with nothing but his spit. Luke shifts forward, feels the ache in his knees from the hard floor, breathes out Michael's name like a prayer, clenches tightly around his finger and tries to keep still.   
  
Michael's mouthy, the twist of his voice meshing with his words leaving Luke in a puddle on the floor. The older boy's hand hits down hard against Luke's left asscheek, the resounding crack of skin on skin reverberating through Luke's body, his pointer finger only knuckle deep in Luke. Michael seems to be teasing him, keeping the movements of his finger shallow, enough to nudge the fleshy walls but not delving deeper, not enough to stretch him open. 

"Want you wrecked under me, babe. Fucking stretched out and crying, covered in my come and begging for me to fuck you again." With that he presses his finger deeper and kisses Luke's lower back in an almost soothing way. Luke lets himself grind back, groans loudly when Michael's hand slips into his hair again and tugs his head back. The angle is horrible, completely and utterly the worst, but Michael's begun moving his finger quicker, doesn't seem to understand Luke's used to two going in at first, that his ass swallows the thick, short digits with ease.    
  
"M-more." He hates the way he stutters out the word, has to lick at his lips and swallow all the while looking at the ceiling uncomfortably. Michael chuckles, and something uneasy creeps into Luke's stomach at the sound. He pulls his finger out and releases Luke's hair, snorting when the blonde falls back into his prior position and begins huffing desperately on the floor.    
  
The wet, slippery tongue that glides over Luke's right thigh sends tingles up his spine, and his eyes slip shut, a breathy plea of Michaels name slipping from between his lips. Michael's mouth follows the swell of Luke's ass, fingers trailing along after to squeeze the supple flesh rightly and deliver a sharp smack wherever he saw fit (every inch of unmarked skin it would seem). He pauses for a moment, placing a hand on each cheek and spreading Luke open. Luke squeezes his eyes shut, chews at his bottom lip and nearly screams when Michaels tongue runs flush along his puckered hole and sucks deeply. He rears back, hips jolting like lightning is coursing through his body, and lets out a strangled noise.   
  
Michaels grip is firm on his cheeks, his left hand slipping away to pull Luke's hand up to keep himself spread wide, the other following suit. "God, you look like a proper whore," Michael says before wiggling his tongue around Luke's hole. He keens desperately, now lying with his chest and cheek flush to the floor. The tip of his cock brushes the floor as he lowers his hips, dipping lower to grind against the smooth surface, but Michael's hands move beneath him and hoist him back up, ignoring Luke's incessant cries. "Shut up, Luke." His tone is harsher, snappier.   
  
Luke's thoughts are jumbled, twisted up like his insides when Michael slides two fingers inside of him, tongue still playing hungrily. Luke croons, breath coming harder. "No, no, c'mon Mike, ne-need you in me." Luke squirms back and finally feels Michaels cock, hard and warm through the thin material of his boxers, brush against his thigh.    
  
There's a moment where Michael is still and his tongue stops moving, a moment where Luke freezes, can't help how he clenches around Michael's fingers, seeking the stimulation he'd been lacking. It passes and Michael's hands are splayed out on Luke's back and Luke is clenching uncomfortably around air. The warm hands disappear and Luke hears jeans coming off. A hand is back in Luke's hair tugging and the other is lining Michael's dick up with Luke's ass.    
  
"Gonna ruin you, peach."   
  
Luke swallows, blinks at the door ahead of him and bites his cheek before saying: "Don't just talk about it, do it." His voice isn't as strong as he'd like, but Luke knows he's gotten his point across when Michael's hand cracks down on his ass, the other pulls tightly at his hair. He sucks in a breath, can't seem to get enough air into his lungs before Michael's cock head is flush against his hole and pressing in.   
  
Michael groans deep in his throat and pulls at Luke's hair as he pushes in. Luke squirms back helplessly, he's usually opened more, has at least three fingers in him before Ashton would fuck him. Michaels bigger, thicker, and a lot less careful. Michael releases Luke's hair and moves his hand to his shoulder, almost pulling Luke's body back onto Michael's dick.    
  
An animalistic cry falls from Luke's lips as Michael gives a sharp thrust, almost burying himself in Luke's tight heat. He murmurs nothingness and praise, lost on Luke's ears. He's stretched so good, feels so full and Michael's not even bottomed out yet. Luke wants to feel balls flush against his ass, wants to feel Michael's cock deep in him pushing at every nerve and lighting up his senses. "Please." It's choked out, ends in a muffled plea as Michael snaps his hips forward, hard. Luke paws at the floor, curls his toes up and mewls.    
  
"What do you want, peach?" Michael doesn't wait for an answer, instead gives another hard thrust before sliding into a steady and hard pace. Luke wants to scream, wants to cry out for more, wants Michael to change his angle and stop avoiding the bundle of nerves deep inside  Luke. Michael feels different, his thrusts are steady and hard unlike Ashton, who usually would have the headboard banging against the wall at a broken pace.   
  
Luke cries out, gasps his words. "F-fuck m-me." He squeaks when Michaels arm slides beneath his waist, knuckles brushing his cock but not bothering to curl around it, despite Luke's pleas. Michael's other hand moves to Luke's throat, wraps around it loosely, manhandles Luke up until his back is flush against Michael's chest.    
  
It's so much better, the angle, and Luke's breath comes harder with the languid grip around his throat growing tighter. His eyes stay locked on his own cock, how it almost bounces with every thrust Michael gives. He wants nothing more than to reach down and wrap his hand around himself, tug himself off until his torso is streaked with his white spunk and he sees stars. Michael's hand stays wrapped around Luke's waist, the other around his throat as he fucks up into Luke quicker.    
  
"You love being fucked, don't you, babe?" Michael spits the words out through gritted teeth before he's licking a stripe up Luke's throat. He tightens his hand around Luke's throat and Luke can imagine how Michael can feel his Adam's apple bobbing desperately as his air supply wanes.    
  
Another sharp thrust, this one deep and sure, and Luke's crying out loudly, head falling back onto Michael's shoulder. His vision is cloudy, lungs searching desperately for air as he reaches up with liquid-like limbs and claws at Michaels arm. For a moment, Michael doesn't relent  and instead raises the limb from around Luke's waist to shake off Luke's grip. He releases his tight hold on Luke's throat, grins into his neck when Luke gasps for breath and tips forward, Michael's hips never relenting all the while.    
  
"How bad do you want me to touch you?" Michael asks, words punctuated unevenly with soft pants.    
  
Luke whines, hands twitching at his sides, and Michael chuckles, a desperate, broken sound that has Luke's stomach coiling even tighter. He's sure he could come just from Michaels cock, doesn't want to voice his thoughts, wants Michael's hand wrapped around him, wanking him into oblivion.    
  
"How bad?" Michael's hand wraps around his cock, loose enough to leave him begging for some pressure but enough that he's fucking forward a little. Luke squirms and Michaels grip tightens, tugs at the swollen length until Luke's a puddle of tears and his stomach and Michael's hand are streaked with white. 

Luke's hips keep going, as do Michael's, fucking into Luke like his life depends on it. Michael's hips stutter for a moment, his come covered fingers moving up and dipping into Luke's mouth.    
  
Luke gags at first but licks at the digits, tastes himself on his tongue and wants to cry. In a moment Michael's bending him back over and fucking into Luke harder, ignoring his whines. He comes, empties himself into Luke and keeps thrusting for a few moments, drawing it out.    
  
"Mi-Michael," Luke's voice wavers, sounds absolutely pitiful. His hands are shaking, arms are too and he struggles to hold himself up. Michael hums, braces himself on Luke's shoulder and pulls out, landing one last slap on Luke's ass. Michael pets the warm skin there, runs his finger down over Luke's hole and presses into the sticky mess dripping out of him. Luke doesn't bother clenching. Likes knowing that Michael's seeing his own cum dribble down Luke's thighs and onto the floor.    
  
"Stand up."    
  
Luke trembles, can't seem to pull himself off of his hands and shakes his head. "I can't." He lets himself lay forward, fold onto the hardwood floor and stretch his legs out. Michael's on his back in an instant, tutting against him. Luke groans, wonders how Michael's got this much energy left in him when Luke's struggling to breathe.    
  
"Good," Michael kisses the back of Luke's neck and rolls onto the floor beside him, pets his hand through Luke's hair. "God, even your lips are shaking." He's grinning, looks entirely too pleased with himself. "Don't fuck with me, peach."

****  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> there we have it. hope everyone enjoyed. this series isn't over yet, which is kinda exciting! 
> 
> feel free to leave kudos, comments or come find me on tumblr @/antisocialhood (still haven't figured out how to link in notes, rip)
> 
> see you soon,
> 
> have a wonderful halloween,
> 
> much love,
> 
> x


End file.
